


show you what all that howling is for

by SunlitGarden



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Ghoulies like to beat up the Serpent Prince, Human Jughead Jones, Protectiveness, Shapeshifter Betty Cooper, Southside Serpent Jughead Jones, Strangers to Lovers, Werewolf Betty Cooper, barchie friendship, mostly ridiculousness, some smut, this does take place in Riverdale after all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22621291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlitGarden/pseuds/SunlitGarden
Summary: “Okay. You’ve won. You can eat me.”The wolf saunters over and starts licking him like crazy. His muffled ughs are squeezed to nothing when the wolf climbs onto his chest and knocks the breath right out of him. “Good doggie,” he wheezes, ruffling the wolf’s ears, which the animal proceeds to rub all over him like a cat. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me.”He doesn’t get an answer, just a long look from surprisingly human-looking eyes.“You’re really pretty.”It must be the moonlight, he thinks, not sure if he’s dying of asphyxiation or passing out from blood loss. Amidst the soft embrace of fur, he feels small metal clips. Are they...bobby pins?
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 46
Kudos: 258
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees, Fall in Love with Riverdale: A Valentine's Event





	show you what all that howling is for

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Smudge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smudge/gifts).



> For the wonderful Smudge and her werewolf!Betty needs because she feeds me lovely bughead things and I appreciate her nifty personage existing in my universe and making me smile on a daily basis. She even held in (most) of her doggy-style jokes while I was writing this. That's dedication.
> 
> I borrowed from a bunch of different "werewolf" mythologies to make this come together. Not beta'd. Long one shot. Serpent-related violence sorta at the beginning and near the end but you'll know when it happens if you wanna skip that particular element. Save your fav lines for a comment if you wanna have me sing a happy song in celebration which sounds kinda like howling, if you're into that ;) 🌕🐺

The pen is supposedly mightier than the sword, but after Jughead leaves the Red and Black and the Ghoulies beat the shit out of him, he wishes that words were a little more helpful saving him from brass knuckles and switchblades.

He vaguely comes to as they drag him to Fox Forest, kicking his cracked ribs one last time before they spit on him and leave him for dead, scurrying when something growls at them.

The Serpent Prince title is officially the worst genetic lottery in the universe. If Sweet Pea and Toni want it that bad, they can fight over the crown, which he realizes he lost somewhere in the fight.

Coughing up blood, he groans and tries to stand.

_Nope. Not happening._

Maybe he can sleep it off, he muses, the pale moonlight burning like cigarettes on the back of his eyelids. Grass ripples and branches creak, a low hum of life reminding him that he might be eaten by whatever carnivores are out that night. Thankfully, he only hears the faint hooves of deer, the skittering of a rabbit. They’ll make tastier meals than he would. Then again, he’s pretty easy prey laying in a heap.

As his breathing shallows, consciousness slipping away, he feels warm breath against his face.

Maybe it’s Hot Dog, come to save a Serpent in need.

He chuckles at the ridiculousness of the notion, blood gurgling in the back of his throat.

The whine makes him think maybe it _is_ Hot Dog, though. His swollen, crusty eyelids make it difficult to blink and he’s too exhausted to fully open his eyes. Essentially blind, Jughead reaches up to feel the mutt’s head, sinking his fingers into silky, soft fur.

“Did you get a bath, boy?”

The canine snorts, spraying him with hot mist.

Wiping his face, Jughead finally cracks an eye open to be greeted by a much more intimidating and elegant face than the trailer park sheepdog. “Am I dreaming?” The wolf snorts again and licks his face, the soft texture shocking Jughead into shuffling back. Something about the size of the beast makes him feel like he’s stuck in a fever dream. He thought wolves were the size of huskies, not small horses. Its eyes glow green amidst golden-brown fur and it studies him with an eerie intelligence that makes his skin prickle in anticipation.

“I have to warn you, I’m not very tasty.”

The wolf eyes him like maybe it doesn’t agree. As he edges back, pain jolts through his side again. Slow-crawling back to the trailer would take too long to escape anything.

“Okay. You’ve won. You can eat me.”

The wolf saunters over and starts licking him like crazy. His muffled _ughs_ are squeezed to nothing when the wolf climbs onto his chest and knocks the breath right out of him. “Good doggie,” he wheezes, ruffling the wolf’s ears, which the animal proceeds to rub all over him like a cat. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me.”

He doesn’t get an answer, just a long look from surprisingly human-looking eyes.

“You’re really pretty.”

It must be the moonlight, he thinks, not sure if he’s dying of asphyxiation or passing out from blood loss. Amidst the soft embrace of fur, he feels small metal clips. Are they... _bobby pins?_

Whatever they are, at least he’ll have a good story if he survives, which is a pretty big “if.”

Slipping out of consciousness, he plans on haunting Pop’s for one last delicious burger. Maybe he’ll get a chance to spill hot coffee on his dad’s lap for ever going back on a deal with Penny Peabody.

~~~

Betty paws at Archie’s door, whining low in her throat until she can hear him skidding across the house, bouncing into door frames in his hurry. The door lurches open, his hair sticking straight up, poised and ready for action. “What’s up, Betts?”

She bounds down the steps, gesturing for him to follow with urgent whimpers. Archie grabs his shoes and sprints after her. The wounded boy’s scent is fairly easy to pick up. She marked the woods around him so hopefully nothing would try to claim him. He’s laying right where she left him, unconscious, heart faintly beating.

 _Help him_ , she whines to Archie, pawing anxiously at the ground.

Archie’s eyes are round as he stands stock frozen. “Did you kill him?”

 _Of course not_ , she growls.

“I wouldn’t be mad if you did. After Chuck–”

She snaps her jaws. _This isn’t the time for that. Help him._

With a big sigh, Archie kneels next to the crumpled boy and gingerly works his arms under him. Hopefully, he can put all that football practice to good use. Even though the wounded boy seems lean, Archie’s veins strain uncomfortably with the new weight. The three of them jostle ridiculously through the woods in a makeshift pack and she bounds forward impatiently. Blood loss is a real thing and Archie’s moving at half speed.

 _Hurry up_ , she huffs.

“I’m not sure what this guy eats, but he’s actually kind of heavy. Maybe I can put him on top of you?”

She swipes her tail in a _no_ that accidentally wacks his shins, making him wince. Lack of human speech can be so frustrating when she’s in this form, although Archie’s usually pretty good at reading her physicality and bears with her outpouring of words when she transforms back. The boy can’t hold onto her if she’s unconscious and they don’t have anything to tie him to her with. Next time, she’ll know to bring rope or something. She leads him to her car, which is parked at the edge of the forest.

“Can you shift back?” Archie asks, covered in a fine sheen of sweat and shining under the moonlight.

She pants with uncertainty and ducks behind the car to try. If she follows a certain chain of events, she can kind of train herself to switch back at will.

 _Relax_ , she commands herself, shuddering in shifts so her bones crack and stretch. Her body groans until she’s breathless and panting on all fours, gravel digging into her scarred palms and knees.

Swallowing hard, she blinks away the shock and pain of being human again and snags the bobby pins from the tangled mess of her hair, hoping whatshisface didn’t dislodge them. Opposable thumbs are such a blessing. She hurriedly works her way back into the car and crawls across to unlock it for Archie.

He’s so determined not to look at her breasts as she slides back into her dress that he bonks the boy’s head against the car frame.

“Archie!”

“Sorry, I just–” He shifts his arm uncomfortably while trying to get the sky to open up and swallow him whole.

“You’ve seen me naked and I know you have internet access so you know what other breasts look like. Make sure you keep his head elevated.”

“Isn’t this weird? I mean, I’m cradling his head and shirtless while you’re driving half-naked–”

“My life is weird.”

“Yeah, but usually when we save someone they aren’t battered, bloody, and unconscious. They’re gonna have questions. Are you sure–”

“I didn’t attack him!” she snaps, still aching from her adrenaline rush and transformation.

With a long-suffering sigh, Archie sulks in the back seat. “Do you know who did? Because they’re gonna want to know what happened and why we found him like that.”

Unclenching her jaw, she starts the car and looks back at him with a sincere, “You’re right, Arch. I’m sorry for snapping.”

“I’m sorry for assuming there’s been an accident. You’ve really learned how to control it.”

“I don’t know about that,” she huffs, rustling her messy hair and absently scrambling for an elastic to take her mind off the fact that she’d licked the boy’s face in an attempt to comfort and scent him. “There are still some kinks to work out.”

“You’ll get there.” Archie’s unwavering confidence is sweet and possibly a little naive.

“Pretty,” the boy in his arms mumbles, shocking both of them before he passes out again.

Archie meets her gaze in the rearview mirror, puzzled. “I think he lost a lot of blood. Was he talking about me?”

~~~

Jughead flinches awake, flexing his bruised knuckles over a hospital sheet. He could’ve sworn someone was holding his hand.

FP lifts his head, face ashen. “Hey, kid,” he manages with a gruff pat on the knee, eyes puffy like he’s been crying or drinking. Probably a bit of both, knowing FP.

“What happened to me?”

“Ghoulies.”

“No, I know that part.” He waves impatiently. “The wolf. The woods. How did they find me?”

Straightening his spine, FP blinks in surprise. “You saw a wolf?”

“A big one.”

“You might’ve been hallucinating. As far as I know, some kid was out jogging and found you in a heap where the Ghoulies left you. Fred’s kid, actually.”

“Fred?”

He lets out a small laugh and wipes his mouth. “Andrews. Guy I knew in high school.”

“What a small world we live in,” he quips, tugging at the tubes hooked up to his hands and nose now that he is breathing properly. “Speaking of, anything you want to tell me about Penny?”

FP scowls and leans back. “Boy, now isn’t the time–”

“Amazing how fast you can regret me coming back to life, right? What the hell, Dad? What were you thinking?”

“We didn’t know she’d try to cash in by trashing the Serpent Prince!”

“You mean _murdering_? Because that’s where they were heading with this.”

“They brought us your crown.”

“My hat?” Jughead instinctively reaches for it atop his head, disappointed to find his messy locks bare. The hospital gown exposes him enough as it is and he wants to hide in his own clothes, his second skins. “Where is everything?”

“We didn’t get a chance to grab fresh clothes.” FP has the wherewithal to look embarrassed for not asking one of his dozens of Serpent friends to grab an unsullied shirt for if and when he woke up. “The kid who found you is with his friend in Room 203 if you want to thank them or ask about the wolf you saw.”

There’s too much information to process without pants. He sighs, glancing at his torn S shirt. “What happened to his friend?”

“Oh, she gave blood.”

Jughead blinks. “To me.”

“Yeah.” FP cracks his knuckles. “I would’ve done it, but–”

He pushes back the covers and shoos his dad away. “Whatever, Dad. Figure out your own life so people stop trying to take mine.”

“Hey.” FP grabs his wrist and holds firm. Burning emotion swells up in his throat and he tries to swallow against it. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah. Me too.” He snatches his clothes from the chair and heads into the bathroom to change. By the time he gets out, FP is on the phone with someone about Penny and the debt. Rolling his eyes, he heads towards Room 203 to thank his lucky stars that some people actually like to jog through random forest paths.

As soon as he enters the room, he’s hit with a strange sense of nostalgia. Flexing his hand, his eye is drawn past the muscular shirtless guy in sweatpants to the pretty blonde girl sitting on the bed with a bandage around her arm. Her hair’s wild and wavy in that slept-in post-shampoo kinda way and he wants to bury his face in her mane and take a good, long whiff. Before he has too long to admire the way the stretchy lavender dress shows off her muscular calves and pert, braless chest, the redhead boy stands and obscures his vision.

“How are you doing, man?”

It takes him a second to come to terms with a world in which a Northsider would bother saving him. “Uh, not dead. Guess I have you to thank.”

“And Betty,” the boy adds, turning to his friend, who inhales deeply and stands.

Her eyes are big, blazing, and dark. There’s something intimately familiar about the way she regards him. “Glad you’re doing better.”

“Yeah. Better.” He sticks his hand out to her, accidentally bypassing the redhead, who seems surprised but not offended by the snub. “My name is Jughead.”

“Jughead,” she repeats, mouth curving in a smile as she slips her hand into his. It feels warm and soft. _Familiar._ The urge to repeatedly swipe his fingers over the silky smooth skin of her knuckles is probably creepy but he can come to terms with that. “I’m Betty. This is my friend Archie.”

Just a friend, he wonders, smiling nonetheless. “Thanks again. You don’t mind if I keep holding your hand for a sec? I feel woozy,” he sways sarcastically, enjoying her baffled eyebrow raise and chuckle while he turns to Archie. “So. Night jogging?”

He hopes he’s doing all right. The girls at Southside occasionally, bizarrely find him intriguing. He probably looks like death but there’s an off-chance the cuts and bruises add to his personality.

 _“You’re just my type!”_ would be such a good pickup line for the girl who gave him blood. Alas, he went with the hand-holding. Ah, well, he figures he’s barely coherent anyway.

Archie looks between them like a lost puppy, not sure what to do. Jughead doesn’t _think_ the two are pining. They weren’t touching or anything when he came in and neither seemed particularly intrigued by the skin showing or the fact that Jughead’s clearly intent on holding her hand.

Betty shrugs at her friend like she isn’t sure he needs to do anything, which seems to give him the reluctant confidence to answer. “Yeah. I thought I heard a dog or something, so I followed it to you.”

“You heard the wolf?” Betty winces as Jughead squeezes her hand. “Sorry.” For a moment, her eyes divert to the hospital tile with something akin to regret. “Did you see it?”

“Her,” Archie corrects. Betty shoots her friend a hard look. “Uh, sorry. No, we didn’t. Betty was busy. The wolf didn’t hurt you or anything, I’m guessing. By your injuries.” Archie attempts to clear his throat. “Sorry. Been kind of a whirlwind night.”

“It must’ve been even worse for you,” Betty says sweetly, stepping closer, and for a moment it almost works to distract him.

“Why were you in the woods?”

“Who says I was in the woods?”

“Your dirty feet. No offense. They’re beautiful feet. I’m just saying–” She carefully shifts on her muddy soles, glancing forlornly at the entirely weather-inappropriate sandals abandoned by the side of the bed. “If you want me to wash them or something in exchange for saving my life, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

Unexpectedly, she laughs and pulls back like she’s embarrassed but he holds onto her hand tightly enough that she only gets a few inches of distance. Archie furrows his brow like he’s less than charmed by Jughead’s attempts to flirt with a pretty woman.

“No, that’s okay. I was walking while Archie jogged.”

“In a dress? And sandals?”

She shrugs, batting her eyelashes and daring him to question it. As he opens up his mouth, Archie blurts, “She was skinny dipping.”

“What?” He gapes, surprised that Betty seems just as bewildered by the admission.

She recovers quickly, straightening her spine. “Archie–”

“The rustling brush might’ve been someone spying so I went to check it out for her.”

“Someone spying...besides you?”

At that, Archie flounders, panic flashing behind his eyes.

“Archie’s not a creep. He’s my best friend,” Betty intercuts, waving her hand as if he’s a kid brother and not a red-blooded man. “Sometimes a girl just needs to bathe naked in the moonlight and he was kind enough to be my watchman so I didn’t get attacked.”

Archie looks dubious at his own friend’s explanation, clearly not in possession of any kind of poker face while she holds onto her enigmatic smile.

“You realize how suspicious this is?”

“What’s suspicious about saving you?”

“I don’t know. As much as I’d love to picture you naked in the moonlight, there’s not a drop of water in your hair or dress. And what’s with the nervousness about the wolf gendering?” Archie glances at Betty to lead him, so Jughead turns his gaze more firmly on her. “I get being out when you’re not supposed to be but there isn’t any reason to hide it from me.”

“I think you enjoy a mystery,” Betty muses shrewdly, stroking his face in a way that makes his knees go wobbly from his blood spinning. “There’s nothing malicious or sexy about Archie and me being in the woods.”

“Can I count on finding you bathing there naked on the regular? Because if so–”

“Hey!” Archie puffs up, ready to defend her honor, which Betty seems to find amusing. Jughead squeezes her hand fondly.

“I recommend staying out of Fox Forest in general. You wouldn’t want to run into any wolves again.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m starting to think they’re good luck.” They migrate within inches of one another, his gaze drawn to the way her teeth dig into her plush lower lip and then sucked back up into the giant gorgeous eyes that reflect desire back at him. Part of him is tempted to ask Archie to give them some privacy.

“We should get going. Right, Betts?” Archie asks with no small amount of uncertainty.

“Right.” She nods, shaking herself out in a way that actually reminds him a little of Hot Dog trying to get rid of excess water. “Nice to meet you, Jughead.”

“Nice to meet you, Betty.” They grin, continuing to shake hands while Archie looks on like he’s entered a movie halfway through and has no idea what’s happening.

~~~

“You were flirting!” Archie sputters incredulously.

“I was not!”

“You held hands. You talked about getting naked–”

“That was _you_ ,” she reminds him. “And him.”

“It was the only thing that made sense!”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Really?”

He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. Do you want to be flirting? I mean, you haven’t really been with anybody–”

“I’m aware,” she snaps, yet another reason to be annoyed with her family for their ridiculous genes that make intimacy an issue with her transformations.

“Do you want Jughead to like you?”

She pauses with her mouth open. She wants to say, “ _Of course not, Archie. He was bleeding. He was hallucinating being attracted to me. I just like flirting once in a literal blue moon._ ” Instead, inexplicably, the word, “Yes,” falls out of her mouth.

“What?”

“Yes,” she repeats, firming up her stance. “I like him.”

“But you don’t even know him.” Archie’s face twists like he’s trying to understand it and she has to bite back, _“That’s rich, coming from the guy who practically drooled all over the table the moment a girl with a cape walked into town_.”

She takes a moment to construct it in a way he might understand better.

“I _feel_ like I know him. I know it doesn’t make sense. Would it be creepy if I said he smelled like comfort food, books, and clean linens? He smells...good. He smells like my person.”

“Is that because you scented by him?”

She buries her face in her hands. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Come on, you’ve helped me through my relationships. Aren’t I helpful in your investigations?”

Knowing she’s in a losing battle, Betty sighs and smiles at him. “You’re a man of many talents.”

Brightening at the idea of someone relying on him for advice, he stretches. “Then I think you should try to meet him again. I’ll help you out. Be your wingman.”

“Thanks, Archie. You’re a good friend.”

“You deserve the best. I hope this Jughead guy’s up to the challenge.”

“Is anyone?” Because being with a shifter would probably be a challenge, if her own family history is anything to go by.

With an indulgent smile, Archie wraps his arms around her in a tight hug. “It’s good to have you back.”

 _You never lost me_ , she wants to say, but she knows that when she transforms, things are different. _She’s_ different, apparently.

As good and solid as Archie is, she feels restless. Her bones still feel too big for her body, her heart too thick and strong. She wants to run towards something. At least the patrols give her purpose, although she doesn’t venture too close to Greendale, knowing their demonic activity is half the reason her genetics activated. They know she protects this town. Hopefully, their dark magic never creeps past Sweetwater River.

Still, she worries about Riverdale’s residents, especially Jughead. She wants to press her nose against his throat and feel his beating heart, smell the way his hormones shift when she gets near.

Maybe she should gut a fish to sate her bloodlust instead.

“Goodnight, Betty,” Archie says, all boy-next-door charm.

“Goodnight, Archie,” she says, hoping she can keep it together long enough to be a girl instead of a wolf for the rest of the week.

~~~

For once, Jughead wishes he spent less time studying True Crime and more learning the intricacies of Romance because he has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do now that he’s crushing on a Northside girl. There is absolutely no reason that he can think of to go to Riverdale High other than to hope Betty’s in a cheer skirt or that Archie’s on the football team like the wholesome midnight-jogging, skinny-dipping weirdos they seem to be.

At least picturing Betty in a short skirt is better than freaking out about the potential Ghoulie welcoming committee coming to destroy him in his sleep.

The trailer door slams open without ceremony. FP surrendered the trailer’s bedroom in misplaced guilt for while Jughead’s recovering but he still hasn’t managed to be thoughtful about other things like being quiet while his son might be sleeping.

“Are you here to murder me?” Jughead calls, only half in jest.

The pop of a bottle cap makes his whole body tighten in aggravation.

“You said something about a wolf that night with the Ghoulies?”

“Yeah.”

FP leans against the door frame holding a root beer. “It might be hanging around. I’m not sure what that means for us but Hot Dog won’t go outside tonight no matter who offers him treats. Fogarty’s got him using a litter box.”

“How’s that working?”

“It isn’t.” Frowning, FP peeks through the blinds, moonlight slatting against his dirty white t-shirt and leather. “We’re keeping an eye out for Penny and her Ghoulies but we can’t shake the feeling that something or someone is hunting.”

“Really?” Curiosity piqued, Jughead joins his father at the window. The fine hairs on his arms stand on end as a howl pierces through the trailer. His heart stops. The resulting silence makes his hands twitch, hunger gnawing at his gut. “Maybe it is the wolf,” he murmurs, not sure what it’s doing so close to the trailer park.

“You think we should talk to Keller? Form a hunting party?”

“No,” he answers immediately. “It–she didn’t want to eat me. If anything, she was my own personal Lassie.” His father keeps frowning out the window. “I’ll go to the library tomorrow and try to figure out what’s happening. Maybe it has something to do with the moon. How are things with Penny? Did you get her money?”

“Don’t worry. We’re handling it.”

“Very reassuring.”

“You focus on the wolf, I’ll handle the Ghoulies.”

He sighs and fights the urge to head outside and thank his furry friend for checking in on him with a pat on the head or whatever raw meat’s left in the fridge. The wolf helped save his life. So did Betty and Archie.

Maybe that’s all the reason he needs to head over to the other side of the tracks. They might not appreciate raw meat but anyone with taste buds could appreciate a Pop’s milkshake.

~~~

The smell of books and coffee makes her lungs ache with desire. She’s barely paying attention as Archie splits off to greet the Bulldogs and she tries to determine if it’s worth skipping lunch to check on the trailer again. Last night, the Serpents seemed unnerved by her presence without even seeing her but she can’t help wanting to check on Jughead. There’s this weird urge to curl up on his lap, to feel his hands in her fur and her hair, to lick his face and kiss him and it all goes way beyond feeling protective of a Riverdale resident.

Maybe if she dropped by as a human he’d hold her hand again.

Although, she’d probably have to explain how she knew where he lived. Dating’s never really worked out for her, anyway. Keeping her secret guarded means not letting anyone in. It’s safer that way.

The unnerving sense of being stalked sets her on and edge. She looks up from her tray ready to deal with Reggie’s ego stroke attempts at aimless flirting when she realizes the figure approaching across the yard has drawn the attention of everyone else as well.

It’s Jughead.

He’s wearing a crown-edged beanie and his leather jacket and it’s so stupid to wear gang paraphernalia on school grounds but he’s so damn attractive that she doesn’t even have the heart to roll her eyes at him for making such a dramatic entrance because he’s beelining straight for her with softness around his eyes and a swagger to his step. Despite the cut on his lip and bruise around his eye, he looks healthy and bright and she wants him.

Glancing at an equally surprised Archie, she drops the tray at their table and marches across the lawn in front of the whole student body to meet him.

“Hey.” He shrugs his shoulders, his lip curling up on one side like this is a casual run-in and not the most extra thing she’s ever seen.

“Hey.” Breathless, unable to stop herself, she brushes a lock of dark hair away from the bruise on his brow and caresses his face. His eyes flutter shut and he smiles a little more at her touch. It makes her want to rub herself all over him. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m surviving.” He smirks at her like he’s just told a joke before he clears his throat and looks at the ground. His combat boots are so sturdy compared to her pink Converse. “I was wondering if I could take you to Pop’s as a thank you for saving me.”

“You don’t need to thank me or Archie. We’re happy you’re doing better.”

He bites his lip and lets his gaze slide to the side before he leans in. “How about I take you as a date, then?”

She parts her lips and stares at him. “Really?”

“Come on, I think I’m starting to feel woozy,” he says, slipping his hand into hers. Everything feels good. They giggle and walk off towards the parking lot, her school friends forgotten in a haze of possibility. Besides, Archie and Kevin will have obviously seen her go off with Jughead. The whole school is probably buzzing about the perfect, preppy girl-next-door waltzing off with a devastatingly handsome gang member, especially once she gets behind him on his motorcycle.

No one but Archie really suspects what she’s capable of–that she doesn’t wear underwear under her sweet pink skirts, that she can rip someone to shreds with her bare teeth (or investigative skills, but that’s a whole other thing). The shock of wind in her human form has her locking her thighs around him even tighter than she normally would. By the time they get to Pop’s, she wants to forego food and ravish Jughead in the underbrush but she supposes she should know him better before risking her emotions in his embrace.

He holds the door open and beams at Pop like he’s showing her off and it makes her smooth her ponytail with excitement.

Jughead seems like a good guy and he likes her. They sit on the same side of the booth with his arm around the back. Within minutes, her hand is on his thigh, he’s massaging the back of her neck, and they’re engaged in the deepest, easiest conversation she’s ever had.

Part of her wants to unhinge her jaw and peel open her skin to show him everything she’s ever been. Whatever soft admiration resides in his blue eyes would probably widen in horror at her raw reality.

But there are moments, flickers of darkness that she thinks maybe he’s different. Maybe he’d see her for all she is down to her very soul and he’d want her anyway. Her nails dig into his thigh and he pulls her closer.

~~~

There has never and will never be a date as successful as this one. He has half a mind to get on his knees and ask her to marry him, legal age of consent be damned.

“Should I take you back or…?”

“Or,” she chooses, impossibly large eyes fixed on his lips.

He huffs out a laugh and tries to distract himself from the quivering boner he’s been fighting for half an hour. “Where to?”

“Your place?”

Groaning, he splays his fingers around the base of her neck. “Yes. I mean, I have to stop by the library first, which should give us enough time for my dad to leave for the day if you wanted…” He swallows hard, not daring to imply anything. “Alone time.”

“Should be fun. You can show me all of your literary influences.”

“Have more romantic words ever been spoken?”

“Nope.” Her ponytail swishes excitedly like a dog wagging its tail and he can’t help but mirror her enthusiasm.

They hold hands through the stacks and he feels giddier than he has ever had as a kid. They meander into the Tracy True and Baxter Brothers section and talk about their favorite mysteries and formative years. He loves the way her face lights up when she traces the book spines like they’re her longtime friends. She _gets_ it. She gets _him_.

“So what are we really here for?”

“Wolf research.”

Betty falls quiet, staring at him with an intensity that has nothing to do with their rampant sexual tension or easy camaraderie.

“My dad’s worried that the big wolf that found me might be hunting Sunnyside’s sheepdog or the Serpents so I’m here to disprove that theory.”

“Wolves don’t eat dogs. Or people, usually.”

“I know, but they do have awfully sharp teeth.” He pulls out an old copy of Little Red Riding Hood as a joke.

Betty frowns at the naive blonde little girl in red and the conniving wolf on the cover. “All the better to eat you with, right?”

He tucks the fairy tale back in the shelf. “This wolf was sweet, though. That may sound weird but I had this feeling that it was trying to help me.”

She arches an eyebrow and smiles at him with half her mouth. “Sometimes you have to trust your instincts.”

“Yeah. Sometimes, you do.” They smile at each other long enough to gradually give in to the gravitational pull of their desire. Eyes falling closed, he cups her face with his free hand and presses his lips to hers.

Kissing Betty Cooper is everything he never knew he wanted–the hummingbird heartbeat, a low, molten warmth blooming at her touch. Her lips curve in a smile before she lays into him more enthusiastically, one hand wound in his shirt. Part of him wishes she would rip it open and reach into his chest to hold his heart directly in her hands.

Every time she bends over to get him a book he wants to wrap his arms around her midsection and thank whatever deity makes perfect women. They get distracted by want and make out multiple times in the stacks, the books propped haphazardly against a shelf until she suggests they go to the checkout.

He’s grinning like an idiot and the librarian clearly thinks he’s crazy and none of that matters because Betty happily makes herself at home in his empty trailer and requests to read the book he’s been working on in a way that makes it clear it’s in his best interest to do what she wants.

“Of course, m’lady.”

They settle on the couch, her legs draped over his, as she reads the printout of chapter one. He can’t help but sneak peeks at her face while he starts his own research, hoping that she likes it.

“I love it,” she decides, placing it down on the coffee table. “It’s _Twin Peaks_ meets _Pulp Fiction_ with a voice that’s all your own. Impressive, Juggie. I can’t wait to read the rest.”

Bewildered, he shakes his head and squeezes the meat of her thigh. “I was worried you’d think it was too dark or gory.”

Her eyes glimmer, something familiar and warm. “I’m all about the beast within.”

He doesn’t know what they’re doing after that. All he registers is the silk of her skin, the way her body radiates heat like there’s a fire stoked from within. She pulls at the hem of his shirt and he winds it over his head, knocking the beanie back to the couch cushions. Her legs spread open and he nearly has a heart attack at the glimpse of bare skin.

Swears of veneration lock up in his brain and he’s not sure if he says any of them or just dives in, kissing her with all he’s worth in the hopes he can savor the experience.

In between kisses, she tosses her sweater on the floor, revealing perfect, unencumbered breasts. He buries his face between them, darting up to kiss her in gratitude for gracing him with her presence.

Maybe he died and went to heaven that night the Ghoulies dragged him to Fox Forest because Betty Cooper is officially the best thing to ever happen to him.

~~~

Technically and metaphorically, they’re moving fast. His fingers pump inside of her as he sucks her breasts and her body feels like it’s on the brink of erupting. “Jughead,” she pleads.

His lips brush her neck as he migrates up to her ear and whispers, “You’re so beautiful.” The dam inside of her breaks. With a long, needy moan, she comes on his hand.

He’s her _person_.

Nuzzling feels so good. As he pulls away, a low thrum of protest vibrates up her chest. He kisses her jaw and smiles, mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Did you just growl at me?”

“No.”

“It’s okay if you did. I think it’s sexy.” Embarrassed and pleased, she wags her hips, not caring that her skirt chafes her ribs from being hiked up high enough to expose herself to him. “I think _you’re_ sexy.”

Nestled against him, Betty feels safe and content enough to purr. Instead, she kisses him, grounding herself in the downy scruff of hair just above his neck. His body’s healing nicely. She lets her hands roam, finding the places that make him gasp in pleasure and pain until she circles his cock and he moans, letting his head fall forward in surrender to sensation. It makes her feel powerful and good to have his body snap so willingly into hers.

After he’s emptied, they cuddle on the couch.

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs sleepily, mouthing at her shoulder.

“It’s my blood.”

“You know what’s kinky? Technically, you’re inside of me.”

“That’s not exactly romantic.” She chuckles, tracing the beauty marks on his cheek and chest.

“It is. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Maybe it’s in our DNA or something.”

“Maybe,” she murmurs, nerves taking hold in her gut. Maybe their connection is more supernatural than she’d like to believe. Half an hour later, she tidies herself in the trailer’s tiny bathroom and flashes a nervous smile at him. “Call me.”

“I will.” He insists on walking her halfway home despite her protests about strict parents potentially finding out she skipped class if she’s with a cute guy like him. She kisses him on the sidewalk and revels the way he sways when they part, his eyes practically spinning with stars.

By the time she gets home, Archie’s waiting for her at the end of the block with a shit-eating grin on his face. “How was your date?”

“It was amazing.” She sighs. “I’m actually a little worried about _how_ amazing.”

“Why? What do you mean?”

“Our connection is crazy! It’s like I’ve known him my whole life, like we’re meant to be. Does he even like me or are we bonded because of my scent and blood and–” She sucks in a huge breath. “Am I overcomplicating things?”

“Uh, yeah. It sounds like love at first sight. Totally normal.”

“For you, maybe.” He fixes her with an affronted look. “Sorry. I’m freaked out and happy and it’s a weird combination.”

“It’s good for you. Maybe if you’re with Jughead you won’t need to be…”

“Wolfy?” She sighs at his strange logic. “Even if I put my energy into other things, the shift happens eventually. Do you think I should tell him?”

A sad, pitying look dances just behind Archie’s support. “I don’t know.” He was pretty shocked when she came out to him as what she is–what she _can_ be. Other people might not be so understanding. “You’re not a vampire who feeds off of humans or anything. You’re a shapeshifter. You saved him. Do you know if he likes dogs?”

Betty bites her lip. “He liked the wolf.”

“That’s great!” He pats her shoulder consolingly or perhaps in congratulations. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will if I can.” She forces a bright smile and braces herself to go inside. “You didn’t happen to get my homework for the second half of the day?” He hisses an inhale and scratches the back of his head. “Never mind. Thanks, Archie.” She’s used to improvising.

~~~

Jughead’s girlfriend doesn’t wear underwear. She reads, she writes, she has the best heart, the wryest sense of humor, the most fantastic body and brain and she’s not even imaginary.

He’s absolutely in awe of her whether she’s perfectly put together with her ironed camisoles and cardigans or a goddess of the wild, her hair down, body bare.

Even though he’s considered “royalty” at Southside High, he considers transferring to Riverdale High to be with his Queen. As if mulling over the possibilities has summoned her, Betty shows up at Southside after school and his heart almost stops.

“You cannot be here without supervision and a weapon. It’s dangerous,” he insists, standing up from the ancient computer in the Red and Black office.

“I _am_ a weapon.”

He wraps his arms around her waist to pull her in for a kiss. She huffs at him for laughing. Something about her presence relaxes him and makes him feel like he can take on anything. After making out against the filing cabinets, he gives her a tour of the Red and Black office and falls even more helplessly in love with her as she helps him with the layout. “You don’t have to do this,” he says.

“I know but I want to.”

Afterward, they walk to the trailer park, and Betty’s shrewd attention to detail switches to their surroundings.

“My guardian angel. What are you looking for?”

“Ghoulies,” she says curtly, eyeing some people in acid-washed denim jackets. “How are things with Penny?”

“I think she and my dad have finally come to an understanding,” he says, not fully sure if it’s true, but from the snippets he’s picked up, at least he knows they’re paying her something.

“Good.”

“You worried about me?” he teases, nudging her hair with his nose before planting a kiss to the crown of her hair.

“Well, yeah. Last time you tried to put out an issue on your own, the Ghoulies tried to take advantage of your work ethic and use your mangled, delusional self as a _message_.”

“Mangled? Delusional?” He _tsks_ in mock offense. “Here I thought I was charming.”

“Somehow, you managed to seduce the girl, so I’d say you did well.”

“Me too. Think I can do it again once we get back to my place?”

By some miracle, he does. The cabinets rattle in between their excited gasps, clothes tossed haphazardly in the sink before he picks her up under her thighs and carries her to the bedroom. He lands on his back with an _oof_ while Betty straddles his waist and whips her elastic tie out so her hair fans out in a perfect, silky mane. Something about the position has him pushing her up his body until he can press his mouth to her hot, velvet sex. His ears are humming with the sounds she makes as he licks and swirls against her clit: heavenly groans, whiny breaths, instructional pants that sometimes shift into praise or curses of _oh god_ while her hands shoot into his hair for grounding. She’s _perfect_. The way she cants against his face makes him feel like a sex maniac drinking his nectar. Wood snaps and he wonders if she’s crunched the headboard in half but he can’t see anything up there beyond a halo of blonde, green eyes, and bouncing breasts. The fantasy of turning her on so much she rips the bedroom to shreds has him lapping at her until she comes hard, her legs shaking uncontrollably. He tries to keep it going, one arm firm around her thigh so she can’t waddle off of him while the other strokes her back and breast.

“Jughead, I can’t,” she pants. He just smiles at her as best he can between her silky folds and flicks his tongue against her clit. Moments later, the headboard trim snaps and crunches as she cries out and ruts through her orgasm.

Eyes wide, he scrambles back against the pillows and moves her until she’s sitting in his lap so he can open her hands and make sure she didn’t hurt herself.

“I’m sorry,” she chants, shaking as tears squeeze down her cheeks from the pressure of release. “It was so much, I–”

“Betty, no. It’s a compliment,” he insists. “If anything, I’m sorry for not listening to _I can’t_. Honestly, I kind of thought it was encouraging.”

“It felt… good,” she admits, biting her lip. “I let go. I shouldn’t have.”

He carefully picks small, cheap splinters from her grip and places them onto the nightstand before kisses her palms. Wherever the moon-shaped scars came from, he doubts they were from pleasure. “You’re safe to let go here. With me, I mean.”

“Okay,” she says quietly, big eyes shiny with wonder as she looks at their linked hands. She slowly opens his grip until she can line their fingers up to show just how tiny her handprint is in comparison. “I should probably pay for the headboard or at least help you fix it.”

“Are you kidding? This is a testament to our lovemaking.” She giggles and shoots him a surprisingly shy smile considering her come is still on his face. “I’m going to make it a mandatory part of the trailer tour and bring it out to the living room when people come to visit.”

“Jug–”

“Here is where Betty Cooper held on when she came against my face.”

“Jug!”

“It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen until I made her do it again–”

“No more orgasms!”

“It seems kind of early in our relationship to cut out sex. I was hoping we could make it to our eighties or nineties and even then–”

“Jughead!” Exasperated, giggling, she rolls over and pulls him on top of her. Teeth buried in her lip, she lets him absorb the warmth of the moment before flicking her gaze up at him with quiet wonder. “You really think we’ll be talking about sex in our eighties?”

Brushing her hair back behind her ear, Jughead nods, not trusting himself to keep his cards to his chest. Although Betty doesn’t seem like the kind of person to bolt at a love confession, he doesn’t feel comfortable with the words yet. He wants her to know it’s not just because they’re naked, happy, hormonal teens.

Maybe he can hold out for two weeks.

As she presses a sweet kiss to his lips, his estimation dwindles to seconds.

~~~

“I feel like I’m taking advantage of him,” Betty admits, wringing her hands.

Archie glances away from his video game. “Uh, pretty sure he’s okay with it.”

Exasperated, she falls back on his bed with a groan, her hands covering her face. Sensing her turmoil, Archie pauses the game and scoots closer, waiting for her to explain.

“I feel like I’m hiding something from him and it’s slowly eating me away.”

“You could try telling him.” Tempted though she is, Betty shakes her head.“If the stress is that bad, you could break up with him.”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m in love with him!” She can’t believe she told Archie before she told Jughead. With a big sigh, she looks up at the ceiling to avoid the potential judgment of her best friend. “I love him and I’m worried he won’t love me back once he knows what I am.”

“He knows who you are, Betty. Of course he’s going to love you.”

“That’s what Polly thought about Jason and we both know how that ended.” Her sister’s living in a “free-range nudist colony” to embrace her shapeshifting whims and nobody really knows where Jason Blossom is considering they lost his trail across Sweetwater River.

Justice has been served to some extent, but it still serves as an important reminder that “love” doesn’t conquer everything.

“You’re not Polly and Jughead’s not Jason,” Archie reasons. The obvious statement makes her feel even more like an idiot.

“What happens if the Serpents try to tame me into being a weapon or study me for science?” Jughead probably wouldn’t let them hunt her.

“Pretty sure they’re not into science.”

“Chemistry is science.” When Archie frowns, not catching on that she’s referencing the occasional drug lab that pops up on the Southside, she changes tracks. “It feels like there’s way more that could go wrong than could go right. I don’t want to put that on him. I like the way things are going.”

“You wouldn’t be here telling me you felt like you were taking advantage of him if you felt like things were right.”

Pouting, she nudges his knee with her heel. “When did you get so smart?”

“People underestimate me.” He grins, all boyish charm, and she has to be grateful for having someone so good in her life that’s stuck with her for so long.

“Okay. One last round and then we have to get back to your math homework.”

“Any chance we can bargain? How about if I beat this boss, you tell Jughead and give me twenty more minutes?”

“How about I take that controller and show you how it’s done?”

He starts to hand it over, then pauses, jerking it back. “Wait. Are you just going to hide it again so I have to focus on math?”

“Maybe. Don’t you trust me?” She grins, wiggling her outstretched hand.

~~~

After a hot tip from the Serpents that Betty’s car is at Fox Forest, Jughead kickstarts his bike with a little extra fire in his veins. He’s excited to see if she’s really bathing naked in the moonlight. Maybe she’ll let him watch or join in. Plus, Archie deserves a break from being her designated gentleman. It’s part of a boyfriend’s honor to get his lady’s back...whether that be literally massaging her in the bath or figuratively protecting her from creeps.

He parks his bike next to her car and surveys the scene for anybody else. Most of the guys cruising for a pickup stick to the other side of the woods. Still, it’s better to be safe than sorry. The Ghoulies and Serpents have a tentative partnership at the moment and he has no desire to end up bleeding on his back again. Although their handoff is probably over, he wonders if any of them are still lurking in the woods.

Branches crunch underfoot as he stalks towards the river. He doesn’t want to be too quiet and make it seem like he’s spying but he also doesn’t want to alert anybody besides Betty and Archie that he’s out there, even if the one wolf he encountered was unusually friendly. The Ghoulies wouldn’t be and the Serpents would definitely want a glimpse of his girlfriend, who had somehow magically calmed Hot Dog down enough that he was doing his business outside again. Jughead bragged that it was all because Betty has a way of making everything better. Although Hot Dog had been nervous and whining at first, after a few ear scratches and sniffs, he was putty in her hands. Jughead could identify with the feeling.

By the time he gets to the river, he’s eager to scratch a certain itch of his own, but he doesn’t see anybody. He wanders down the shoreline. “Betty? Archie?” he calls out tentatively. Something skitters on the other side of the river.

On instinct, he flips open his switchblade and turns to the noise.

Glittering eyes shine at him from the darkness.

“That you, Lassie?”

As the creature moves forward, he realizes that it is. Moonlight dances over her fur, highlighting strong muscles and intelligent features. It seems nervous about coming too close this time.

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he assures it, hands up. “You saved me. I should have thought to bring you some raw meat but that seems an awful lot like wearing an _Eat Me_ sign.”

Lassie blinks indulgently at him.

“What big eyes you have,” he half-jokes, tugging his jacket. “Have you seen my girlfriend around here? Gorgeous blonde and her redhead friend?”

The wolf snorts and dips its nose to the ground, looking up at him almost shyly. Green seems like a rare color for wolf eyes. There’s something off about them this time, like they’re comforting and smart but they don’t belong in that head.

“Okay, I’ll let you go about your business. Can I sneak a photo of you so I can show Betts?”

Before his hand can even get to his pocket, the wolf dashes away in alarm.

He frowns, confused, listening closely as she thuds through the woods and river. What if she really was like Lassie and wanted to show him something?

Before he can think too much about it, Jughead takes off after the wolf, calling his girlfriend’s name in alarm no matter who or what can hear him out there. Other things tumble in the distance but he’s too worried about his girlfriend to pay them much attention.

What if the Ghoulies got to her? What if there’s a bear? “What if” keeps pounding in his head faster than his feet can carry him, the trail leading him back to where Betty’s car is kept.

“Betty?” he shouts over the cracks and slithering sounds he doesn’t understand.

“Here! I’m here.” She pops up next to her car looking frazzled, haphazardly covering her naked body.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” He takes off his jacket and hurries her into it, surprised at the way her knee pops as she turns to wince and accept the comfort. “What happened to your clothes? Where the hell is Archie?”

“I...I came out here to swim but I got distracted and ran.” She licks her lips, trembling.

“Was it the wolf? She’s not going to hurt you.” He cups her jaw and searches her face for answers that she doesn’t seem to be able to give him. With a quick glance at the car, he can see the keys and her clothes in a pile in the passenger’s seat. Confusion and dread pluck at his skin. He knows she’s not cheating on him but it seems excessive to prevent someone from taking her keys and clothes by locking them in the car. There’s something she’s keeping from him but he doesn’t know what. As he tugs on the car handle to get her stuff, it protests, locked from within. “Where’s your security detail?”

“I…” She swallows hard, rolling her lips inward. “I need to tell you something.”

Usually, when she starts her sentences with that, she trails off into how much she likes him and he gets so over-excited by that prospect that he ends up distractedly smothering her in kisses so he doesn’t blurt out how much he loves her.

This time, he stills, frozen in anticipation.

“I should probably get my clothes first, so you’re not distracted. Plus, you’ll probably want your jacket.”

“Forget the clothes. What is it?”

She hesitates. Something moves by the trees but he’s more focused on the way her long, feathered lashes close as she leans in, her hands on either side of his jaw to pull him into a long, emotion-filled kiss.

He shouldn’t let her distract him like this but her lips ply the anxiety from under his skin. His hands slip into her silky, wavy hair where a hard metal pin brings back muscle memory.

_Bobby pins._

An idea so insane that he’d be put away for it bursts behind his eyelids. Shocked, he breaks off the kiss and stares at her green eyes with a new intensity. She’s beautiful and wild, intelligent and caring, even as she twists the lapels of his jacket like a nervous wreck. “Betty? Are you–”

A catcall cuts through the woods, starling him out of his shock. People slow clap. Confused, Jughead puts himself in front of Betty and wields his switchblade at the forms appearing between the trees.

“Show’s over, assholes.”

“I don’t think so, little prince.”

“Penny,” he breathes, flexing his grip around the switchblade. Betty fists the back of his shirt like she wants to drag him into the car for safekeeping. “You got your money. I assume we’re square?”

“I got some,” she agrees, a dagger shimmering between her fingers while her small collection of cronies raise clubs. “But the Serpents are refusing to pay fair interest.”

“Come on. You know the Serpents don’t have any money.”

Some guy with a rat’s nest of hair snickers. “Maybe they can pay with his girlfriend.”

Nails dig into his back and he sees red. It takes all his self-restraint not to leave Betty’s side and punch him, despite being outnumbered. “Leave her out of this. I can talk to my dad. Maybe work out a financing–”

“Maybe after we carve what he owes into your skin so he doesn’t forget.”

“Jug,” Betty whispers, sounding pained.

“ _My_ skin? Why not use his?”

“Because your dad doesn’t care about himself. He does, however, care about you. All snakes have a soft underbelly.” Penny grins, moving forward. “You're his. I’m guessing she’s yours. Now step away from your pretty girlfriend so we can get a little skin.”

“Back the hell up!” he shouts, slashing the air as they start closing in. “Betty, the keys are in my jacket. Take the bike and–”

Chuckling like hyenas, the Ghoulies descend and then things move too fast for him to fully process before going into fighting-autopilot. Betty shouts, the ends of it smothered by a throaty choking sound that amplifies into a snarl. Fists come at his face and yank at his shirt. He slashes someone and feels warm, hot blood on his hands. This time he has someone to protect and it intensifies his strength even as three of them try to wrestle him to the ground to carve into his skin. He scrapes his knees. The sound of leather slapping against the car and then the ground makes him think she shed his jacket. Maybe she’s abandoned him or is trying to distract them or maybe…

Bones crunch and snap. Ghoulies’ red-rimmed eyes widen in alarm and they start screaming expletives, scrambling back.

Maybe he was right.

Blood pounding in his ears, Jughead turns to the noises. Betty’s ribs swell, joints bend the wrong way as she falls on all fours, her face contorting into a snout while her skin erupts into fur like her whole body has a pulse. Awed, he sits back on his feet and watches as she snarls at them, fully transforming into the beautiful wolf from the last time he was in the woods.

“Lassie?” he whispers.

She howls and rockets forward, knocking back the Ghoulies closest to him.

His girlfriend is a _werewolf_.

He watches in mute awe as her strong jaws snap the man's throat open, blood staining her muzzle. The body shudders with the bursting loss and Betty adds two more bites on the shoulder for good measure, gnawing like the Ghoulie is a chew toy she wants to obliterate. A tweaked-out Ghoulie raises a spiked club over their head in crazed warrior clarity.

“Betty!”

The Ghoulie hits her shoulder with a sickening thud. Her low whine breaks his heart and fills him with rage.

“Get the hell away from her!” He leaps over Betty to punch the asshole in the face and wrestle them to the ground, blindly reaching for his switchblade.

“I want to wear that bitch as a coat at the Serpents’ grave!”

“No! Penny–” The Ghoulie on the ground knocks into his gut, stealing his breath away.

Snorting furiously, Betty clenches her jaws around the Ghoulie’s head and twists, snapping his neck.

Stunned, Jughead falls back and meets her golden-green eyes, their pupils blown wide with bloodlust. _It’s still Betty_ , he reasons, remembering how sweet she was when they first met, the way she nuzzled and licked his face. Now, she laps the blood off her fangs, panting in a panic as she stares at him, _recognizes_ him.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, freaked out and fascinated by how powerful she is.

Clenching her jaw, she nods once, then snaps her attention on the remaining Ghoulies, growling low as she circles them.

“You do her doggy-style or something?” Penny asks, tongue prodding her lip as if she’s not surprised at all this kind of thing exists. “That why she turned into a bitch?”

Lip curled into a sneer, Jughead grabs his switchblade and stalks towards his prey. “No one calls my girlfriend a bitch.”

Scoffing, Penny raises her eyebrows, her own dagger glinting. “You might want to take a closer look at what she is, kid.”

Normally, Jughead avoids hitting women, but he can’t control the swell of energy that leads him to slash about four inches below Penny’s skull choker. Grunting, she falls back, the other two Ghoulies swarming in on him. He manages to stab one in the gut and dodge the other just as Betty latches onto the stabbed one’s leg and drags them to the ground.

“Trap him!” Penny shouts, nails sinking into Jughead’s forearm as he tries to dodge her goon again. Shoving, swipes, and wrestling ensue amidst the grueling noises of the Ghoulie on the ground getting mauled. Jughead just barely manages to shove his knife in the remaining goon before Penny snatches his hat off and yanks him by the hair to expose his throat, her bracelets jangling like handcuffs. Cold, unforgiving steel presses under the curve of his jaw. “Hey, bitch!”

Betty’s eyes snap onto Jughead’s, the gold-green swirling into horror, ears flattening against her head.

“Don’t worry about her, Betts.”

“Oh, I’d worry.” The smallest bite from the blade has blood slipping down his throat in a neat sheet. Betty growls and centers her body low, ready to pounce. “You come one step closer and it’ll be the last thing your boyfriend sees.” Betty’s low whine makes his knees want to give out. Just as he’s about to be tempted to take his chances and elbow Penny hard enough to get away, she says, “Change back.” Betty seems surprised, straightening up and glancing back at the car. “You can change, can’t you?”

His girlfriend lifts a paw and steps back, glaring at the knife. She barks, huffing in Jughead’s direction and widening into a protective stance.

“She wants some kind of guarantee I’ll be safe.”

“Does she?” Penny mocks, sharpening the point of her dagger into his jaw until Betty snarls.

“If you kill me, she’ll rip you to shreds. There’s no good way out of this. Just take your money and get out of Riverdale.”

“Or you’ll sic your girlfriend on me again?”

“You attacked _us_!”

“Make her human again and we’ll get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” She shoves him instead of answering, the edge of the knife still sharp at his jugular. “Shit. Betty, can you…?”

She whimpers, padding towards the car with a longing look over her shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’ll be okay,” he says, knowing he can’t promise the same for himself. By now, he knows how Penny operates. As soon as Betty’s in a vulnerable state, she’s going to stab him or knock him out and go for Betty.

He can’t risk that.

He has to wait for the right moment.

Betty shudders but doesn’t shift. Glancing nervously over her shoulder, she tries again.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing,” he snaps. Betty pants, blinking heavily before trying again. “She can’t control it,” he realizes.

“What?”

The first snap incites a brutal howl that reverberates through his chest. She’s forcing it. As she shudders back into human form, he can’t imagine it’s anything like the quick thing it was when he found her by the side of the car. Her mouth stretches like her teeth are still too big for her face, blood smeared across her lips like savage lipstick as she growls in pain.

“Betty,” he whispers, wishing he could help her as she trembles and shifts.

Penny flexes her grip and eyes his girlfriend like she’s looking for a target, then jumps as another knee cracks. It’s the moment he’s been waiting for.

He rolls towards Penny with all his weight and tackles her to the ground, fighting her forearm from the instinct to stab him. Even with the death grip in his hair and her spitting fury, he’s got more passion thrumming in his veins to overpower her hatred. Betty’s cries give him the final push to make sure Penny never bothers them again.

When it’s done, he feels different. The strongest emotion that rises to the surface is relief. Betty’s safe–both her secret and her life. So’s he. So are the Serpents, even if some of their less-than-stellar decisions are what landed them in hot water in the first place.

Exhausted, he crawls on his knees towards Betty, who appears to be recently fully human and on the verge of collapsing. He drags his leather jacket over her shoulders and tries to rub the protection into her skin. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s over.”

~~~

Dirt and blood congeal under her fingertips as Jughead lays over her back, warm and soothing to her body’s aches. It could just be adrenaline binding them together, the fact that she’s saved him twice and he saved her from the Ghoulies, too. She wants to curl up and fall asleep here on the ground, protected by her lover under a starry sky without any secrets weighing between them. After a few minutes, shame and fear bubble up under her skin. She mauled those people. It was self-defense, but there could still be an investigation. Jughead’s a Serpent. The police are already inclined to pick them up for processing, especially if rival gang members are found dead in the woods.

“I can turn back to finish making it look like an animal attack.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he says quietly, nuzzling into the back of her neck. The intimacy makes her want to cry with relief and nerves. Changing in front of him had been so hard on her emotions and her body.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I was worried you’d...well, that you’d see me as a monster,” she admits, sniffling. “It’s okay if you do, too. I mean, I get it. I won’t maul you if you don’t want someone like me.”

“Betty,” he starts, turning her shoulder so she’s facing him. Part of her doesn’t want to see the gentle pity in his eyes so she focuses on how the moonlight glows around the hollows above his cheeks. “Of course I want you.”

A ball of emotion tightens in her chest and she shakes her head. “You’re only saying that because you think you owe me something for saving you and you don’t.”

“What are you talking about? Whether I met you in the woods, the hospital, or Pop’s, you’d still be the same person I fell in love with.” Once he realizes what he’s said, the lines around his eyes and mouth soften, the stars going quiet with his declaration. “I love you, Betty Cooper.”

“I love you, Jughead Jones.” Grateful tears spring to both of their eyes and a smile wobbles up for one brief moment of glory before worry takes over. “But I’m not sure you understand…”

“I understand how I feel. But you’re right. I probably don’t understand everything about your...changes. You can help me with that,” he urges, hugging her closer. “I want to know you, all of you. Okay?”

“Alright,” she relents, worrying her lip. The bitter taste of iron twists her gut in guilt she isn’t sure she truly possesses. She should wash up before she kisses him.

Unaffected, Jughead brushes her hair back. “Is this genetic, an infection, a magic something else?”

“My family says we’re shapeshifters.”

“So it’s genetic?” She nods and wonders if he ever thinks about having children– _hers,_ specifically. His gaze falls to her chin, then lower as she shifts her legs, and he seems to realize that she’s still naked and shifts so she can move easier. “We should probably get cleaned up before anyone else happens to walk past. I can call my dad to figure out how we’re going to handle this.”

Rolling to the side, she clings to his jacket and wonders if he’s bound to tell his gang members about her supernatural inclinations.

Jughead traces the sore spot on her shoulder and presses a soft, apologetic kiss to it as soon as she flinches. “Whatever you want to do, Betts, I’m with you.”

Whatever scenarios she’s run through her head, this never popped up as one and her mind hums into overdrive to try and figure out what to tell the Sheriff and Serpents.

Shifting can be isolating, especially since her family never really became a pack as humans or wolves. They tried to get her to suppress those instincts so she still feels conflicted whenever she shifts and can’t use words and actions so precious to her. It’s not even like she can trust a therapist with any of that to work it out emotionally when she _does_ have her words back. Archie has enough on his plate just keeping her secret and she doesn’t want to burden him. Maybe now that Jughead knows, they all have a new bond that can keep them together. A pack.

Tracing the cut on his eyebrow, Betty studies the stars in his eyes, her own reflection dark and unseeable in the beauty of his mind.

“First, I think there’s something we need to do.”

“What’s that?”

Without another word, Betty stands and leads him to the lake by his hand, the hairs on the ends of her arms prickling with excitement. She can feel his protective gaze as she folds his jacket by the shore and takes a step in. The moon shimmers brightly in the river’s reflection as she wipes her lips from the gore of the night until she’s clean again. Turning, she smiles at his contemplative wonder and beckons. “Come on, Juggie. Let me show you what all that howling is for.”

He answers her call, shedding his clothes before joining her in the water. The fever slow-building between them as they wash each other feeds the urge she has to unleash all of her energy in a way that feels like clawing out of her skin and climbing into his. Rolling her neck in a stretch, Betty tries not to shiver as his chest chafes against hers, his mouth attaching hotly to her neck. The slightest bit of teeth combined with the firm urge of his thumb has her gasping into a smile, tangling her hands into his thick, messy locks while she basks in his love better than she drinks moonlight.

As soon as he comes up for air, eyes dark and shining on hers in question, she edges him back against the shore, careful of his new bruises, determined to explore just how wild and tender they can be under their new discoveries.

**Author's Note:**

> Head canon: they scratch each other's heads and REALLY like it. Archie will be super excited to have someone to share Betty's secret with and smother Jughead with Wolf!Betty stories, which he eagerly eats up along with french fries at Pop's. What are your head canons for this story? Any standout moments from this or fav werewolf scenes in other fictions? Thanks for reading and have a great day!
> 
> Also, listen to "Howling" by TV on the Radio because it's frickin' amazing.


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